


heart and soul

by orphan_account



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alcoholism, Beach Trip, Blind!Nico, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, High School AU, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, Insecurities, M/M, Mortal AU, Some angst, cute boyfriends, father/son abuse, implied referenced abuse, really long two-shot, solangelo, some anxiety, some homophobia, will plays piano
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 18:10:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14062521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Nico wants to play the piano. Good thing Will knows how.(posted again from 'more solangelo') (this time with a continuation)*characters are not mine unless otherwise stated*





	heart and soul

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: implied/referenced abuse (slightly physical, more neglect and verbal), implied/referenced depression, implied/referenced self-harm, implied/referenced suicidal thoughts, one homophobic slur (in the second chapter)
> 
> Please let me know if I need to tag anything :)

Nico knew the standard procedure for running into a blind person. He’d lived it so many times that he could pretty much predict exactly what would happen. That being said, he’d rather not have to run into anyone, but sometimes people weren’t looking where they were going. This was usually the problem. Nico never looked where he was going.

He’d been caught up in the smells of the bakery he’d just passed, and Mrs. O’Leary must have been also because just as he was about to take his next step, he crashes into someone. He hears a string of cursing and something falling to the ground- papers, maybe?

“Watch where you’re going!” someone barks at him. Nico just picks himself up, dusts off his clothes though he can’t see them. He tries his best to face the direction of the voice that’s just yelled at him.

“I can’t,” he states bluntly. He waits patiently for the person to process that Nico’s blind. He’s got the dog, the cane, the sunglasses. He waits for it to click.

“Whatever,” comes the reply. Nico catalogs it as one of the more rude answers he’s ever received. Most people apologized and made a hasty exit. Some even offered to help him to wherever was going. Others just kind of rambled.

Nico hears mumbling about being late and sheet music. Then it’s quiet save for the normal hustle and bustle of the sidewalk. Nico figures the guy has left without even a good-bye. Nico shrugs. Not everyone can be nice, and he’s not looking for pity. He reorients himself, reaching down to scratch Mrs. O’Leary’s head.

“Let’s go home,” he says. Mrs. O’Leary barks, and then she’s leading him along.  
-  
Will misses the last fifteen minutes of his class because he’s trying to figure out how much time he’s got when he gets home from school. He’s got a project and a paper along with his usual homework. But that all has to wait until he gets off of work. And then he’s got to get his homework done in time to make dinner before his dad gets home. And if there’s still time (and his dad is in a good mood), he wants to practice some.

He sighs, glancing at the clock. The bell will ring at any minute now.

His job at the local grocery store is tedious at worst, monotonous at best. He scans items without much of a second thought. He hardly has to card anyone. He just makes sure to pull on a smile for each customer, makes sure they could find everything alright, makes sure to wish them a good day. Most don’t wish him a good day back.

Once home, he has to remind himself to change out of his uniform. His dad doesn’t know he works, and he wants to keep it that way. He’s working for a reason, and it’s not to pay his dad’s beer addiction. Will folds his uniform into a drawer, laying his other shirts on top.

Then he sits down to do his homework. He starts with his usual stuff, knowing the paper and project will take him longer. He’s always been a good student, but it’s not because it’s come easily to him. He’s had to work for it, and now, so close to graduation, he’s not going to let it slip through his fingers.

He’s just starting on the outline for his paper when he hears the garage door. Will freezes, listening for the sound of footsteps. He knows it’s his dad, but he can always judge his dad’s mood by his footsteps. Will allows himself to breathe when he hears the usual pattern.

“Hey, Dad,” he calls. His dad grunts in his direction, heading to the fridge. He uncaps a bottle, chugging for a minute or so.

“What’s for dinner?” Will glances at the fridge. He always planned the meals on Saturday to make sure that he had everything he needed.

“Meatloaf,” Will says. “And mashed potatoes.” His dad grunts again, waving his empty hand. He almost never complained about what Will made as long as he didn’t have to make it himself. It was their unspoken deal. Will sighs as his dad flips on the TV, scrolling through the channels. His dad liked to watch stuff like NCIS and other mystery/cop shows. Will hated the yelling, the sound of gunshots, the crying.

Will starts on dinner. During the commercials, his dad gets up to use the bathroom, to get another bottle, to throw his tie over a chair. Will’s elbow deep in raw meat, everything smelling of onions and peppers. He should have just made roasted or baked potatoes, he thinks. It’d have taken less work.

About three shows have been watched by the time Will announces that dinner is ready. He sets the table, not even bothering to get his dad a glass. He’s on his third beer, and he’ll likely have a few more depending on his mood. They eat their dinner in silence, Will picking at his fingernails in-between bites. His dad reads the newspaper.

“This a friend of yours?” he asks suddenly. Will squints at the picture. It’s hard to see the way his dad is holding it. “Some nerve of that kid trying to speak out against authority.” He shakes his head. “Back in my day, we did as we were told, and we dealt with what we were given.”

Will doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t you be getting any ideas like that, okay?” Will doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. He’s been brought up to be seen and not heard. (And most days he’s pretty invisible, too.)

His dad excuses himself from the table, grabbing another bottle on his way to his room. Will cleans up the dishes, making sure that he’s got enough stuff for tomorrow’s meal. Their house is small, only one floor, three bedrooms, but it feels so big.

Will considers practicing tonight, but he’s got so much homework to do. And he’s sure his dad will yell at him for making so much noise. If he could, he’d quit his job and practice right after he got home from school. As it is, he’s already pressed for time. He doesn’t need anything else on his plate. But he’s got to get out of here; he’s got to make something of himself. (Or else he’ll just disappear.)  
-  
Nico liked his life, though he did think it was a bit mundane. There were only so many things you could do without vision. He’d wanted to maybe try to paint or draw, but he’d called it quits after his sister found him sitting in a paint bucket. He’d also thought about being a scientist, but he didn’t like learning all of those chemical formulas and Latin names for things. He’d tried gardening, but he didn’t like how he couldn’t see what he was growing. (According to his reading, that was one of the more fun things about gardening.) So, in short, Nico had tried a lot of things. His closet was like a junkyard of attempted hobbies.

Currently, Nico was trying out music. He didn’t need sight to listen to music. He could enjoy it with his eyes open or closed. Vision hardly made a difference. He’d asked Alexa (a gift from Bianca) to give him a variety playlist because he was trying to figure out which kind of music he wanted to listen to. He thought maybe he could learn to sing or maybe even play something.

He’s laying on his bed, and Mrs. O’Leary is curled up next to him. He doesn’t really need her help to navigate his house, but they both like being close to each other. (Although, he’d accidentally kicked his shoes off, so he might need some help finding them.) There was some country song playing, and Nico asked Alexa to change the song. While country was fun to listen to, it didn’t really speak to him. He didn’t want to sing about girls and trucks and fried chicken.

(Although Nico hadn’t had any recent crushes, he was ninety-nine percent sure he liked boys. He liked their voices and their rough hands and the subtle scratch of stubble. He also didn’t care for vehicles as he could never drive one or see when one was about to run him over [though he suspected no one really wanted to see their death coming towards them at any miles per house]. And fried chicken was good, but he preferred his mama’s pasta dishes.)

“Alexa, play something slower.” Bianca had told him that one of their relatives used to sing opera. Nico wasn’t sure if this was true, but he liked the idea. Mama could sing really pretty, slow and sweet like molasses. She sang in the shower and when she was cooking. Bianca could also sing, though she preferred pop music, something that Nico secretly indulged himself in.

Some instrumental song starts playing, and Nico tries to hum along. He can’t quite get the tune, but he likes the melody. It reminded him of the creek he and Bianca used to play in as kids. The next song almost makes him cry, though he’s not sure why. He’s had a pretty happy life, aside from not being able to see (though he’s never been able to see - so he couldn’t exactly miss something he’s never had). It’s sometime during the fourth song that he’s yawning.

“Alexa, what song is this?”

“Pachelbel’s Canon in D.” Nico smiles. Typical classical song title. It tells him almost nothing about the song. (Even less since he’s never learned how to read music.) Though he does like that the listener can make anything of it. Maybe he thinks of a happy river while Bianca might think of a field of flowers. Nico shrugs to himself.

He’s decided. He wants to learn this song. And since there aren’t any lyrics, he’s going to have to find someone that can teach him piano.  
-  
Will’s zoning out again. He’s trying to remember what he’d planned for dinner tonight. He’s also trying to remember if he’s got work today. He doesn’t know why his memory is so bad today. Usually, he can remember everything he needs to do and when it needs to be done by. He sighs, yawns for the third time in two minutes. His fingers drum against his desk, tapping out Moonlight Sonata.

“Hey, can you quit that?” someone asks. Will just stares at him for a minute before he realizes what he’s doing. He sits on his hands, trying to remember what he needs to do today. While he regrets staying up last night, his paper is done, and he’d gotten an idea of what to do for his project. He’d also gotten some late night practice in when his dad left with some buddies to go drinking.

Will glances at the teacher. She’s got her head down, grading some papers. They’re supposed to be doing worksheets, but Will’s finished it. He slides out his phone, pulling up the work schedule. He smiles, silently cheering that he doesn’t have to work today.

Even though he’s not making money, it gives him some time to focus himself. He really needs to get some sleep tonight. The bell rings, and he quickly heads out of the classroom. He’s not looking where he’s going again, crashing into another student.

“Hey, sorry.” Will just shakes his head. He feels so out of it today. Maybe he should just skip his homework and sleep until dinnertime. “You okay?”

Will jerks back to reality. The guy he crashed into is looking at him, holding out Will’s crumpled sheet music. (He’d used the library to print it out during study hall because he didn’t have a printer at home.) Will thanks him, shoving the music into his bag.

“Will, right?” Will nods. “I’m Jason. You okay?” the guy repeats.

Will thinks it’s weird. He nods again. “I’m fine. I’ve got to get home. Thanks.” The guy lets him pass this time, and Will sighs. He’s not sure what that was about. It was weird. Usually, Will went unnoticed. He did enough to be able to get into a good college, but he tried to fly under the radar.

His dad didn’t like the idea of college, of putting all of that money towards more education. If it were up to Will’s dad, he’d stay, get a job, marry a nice girl, start a family. His dad didn’t think he was good enough for college, for something better than being a stay-at-home son (not that his dad really thought he was a good son, either).

Will feels relieved when his dad isn’t home yet. And then he feels guilty. Aren’t sons supposed to want their dads home? Didn’t sons want to spend time with their dad? Will supposes most dads didn’t come home drunk in the middle of the day, demanding that they are fed, only to completely ignore their son.

He rushes upstairs to catalog his sheet music. He was proud of his collection, saving up each week to get a new song. He was saving up most of his earnings for college, some going into savings. The rest was going towards an electric keyboard.

Will decides to leave his homework for after dinner, sitting down at the piano. His dad wasn’t home to complain about the noise, and his fingers were restless from holding a pencil all day. His head was stuffed with music notes, the melody already in his mind. As he starts to play, he feels himself relax.

His mama had taught him to play the piano, had sat next to him every other afternoon to work through a song of his choice. The Moonlight Sonata was her favorite, though Will hadn’t been able to learn it before she’d passed. His dad, on the other hand, had no care for music. Since Naomi’s passing, he’d taken up drinking and television like his life depended on it. Will became a second thought.

Will squeezes his eyes shut, determined not to cry. Mama had been dead for seven years, but he still missed her. Life had been good when she was here, even the bad days. Now, all of the days seemed to run together. School, homework, dinner, maybe some sleeping. Repeat.

And Will tried his hardest, though some days he wasn’t sure why he bothered. What did it matter in the end? Everyone died. It was the one thing everyone could agree on. So if everyone died, what was the point in accomplishing so much? Maybe people tried so hard to live so that they could prove that their lives mattered. Will didn’t know. His mama was the most amazing person he’d ever known, but she’d died. In Will’s eyes, the best people died young. (He thought that since he was still alive, maybe he wasn’t good enough. His dad didn’t think so.)

He hits a wrong note, winces. He couldn’t seem to get this part right no matter how hard he tried. He’d memorized it, even played it. But when he put it with the rest of the song, he always messed up. His mama loved this song so much, and Will couldn’t even play it right. Will closes the piano lid, moving to his bed.

He needed sleep. He tosses and turns, tries laying still for ten minutes. Nothing. He can’t force himself to sleep. He can’t make himself escape reality. (Sometimes he thought about sneaking one of his dad’s beer bottles, but he was sure he’d need more than one. But he’d been yelled at enough for even looking at the bottles that he’d never tried to take one. And drugs? His mama would probably disown him from the grave.)

He thinks he finally gets some sleep, only to be rudely awakened by a crash downstairs. Will flinches and then freezes. He listens for the footsteps. And then his dad is in his doorway.

“Where’s my dinner, boy?” Will glances at the clock. Oh, god, he’d lost track of time. It was an hour past when he usually made dinner, and his dad was drunk.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I can make something really quick. How about a sandwich?” His dad sneers at him, chugging what’s left of the bottle in his hands. When Will gets close enough, he slaps Will across the face, knocking him to the ground.

“Good for nothing. I should have left you after your mom died.” He’s hovering over Will, his breath sour. It’s such an odd picture. He’s wearing his suit still, but it’s obvious he isn’t the sharp young man in his thirties anymore. Instead, he’s got a beer belly and uneven stubble and bloodshot eyes. He steps around Will. “Wasting all your time on school and that darned piano.”

Will tries to say something, but words aren’t working. His dad is rifling through his stuff now, frowning. He tries to toss the bottle in the trash but misses, glass shattering all over the floor.

“Boys don’t play music. Not real boys. Only sissies.” He winks like it’s some secret. “I didn’t raise no girl. If you didn’t fill your head with this stuff, you’d be a lot better off.” He grabs a fistful of Will’s sheet music, waving it around in the air. He glances at it before starting to rip it up.

Will doesn’t say a word. He’s trying so hard not to cry. His dad kicks him on the way out, telling him to clean up his mess, shoving him towards the shards of glass and the pieces of Moonlight Sonata.

Will can’t move. He’d say his heart was breaking, but he’s pretty sure his mama took that with her.  
-  
“I put up an ad at school,” Bianca says. Nico turns towards her. He’s been laying on his bed, doing his homework. Braillers were kind of slow, but he supposes that he doesn’t have many other options. He does know how to use a computer, but he’s always found flat surfaces rather disorienting, and he’s never liked the automated voices.

“For piano?” Nico asks.

“Yeah. Hopefully, someone will call.” Nico nods. He’s been itching to learn, asking Alexa to play Pachelbel’s Canon in D until he’s sure he could play it in his sleep - if he just knew how a piano worked. (He’d tried to ask Alexa if she could teach him, but she’d just pulled up a list of articles.) He knows his mama has researched some piano teachers, but most of them are either not taking on more students or are unwilling to teach a blind student.

Nico gets up, smiling when he feels Mrs. O’Leary snap to his side. He doesn’t need her help as much when he’s just wandering around the house, but it’s nice to know she’s there. Mama and Bianca do a good job of keeping everything in order so that he doesn’t trip or misplace anything. He makes his way down the stairs, counting as he goes. He hates the feeling of missing a step. Then he’s in the kitchen.

“Mama got those grapes you liked. They’re just to your left.” Nico smiles as his fingers wrap around the bowl of grapes. “She’s already washed them,” Bianca adds.

Nico nods. He sets them on the counter, taking a seat. He hears Bianca sit next to him. “I think this hobby will stick,” Nico says. He thinks Bianca laughs. “I mean, it won’t be easy, but it could be fun.”

Bianca steals one of his grapes. “I’m sure we’ll find you a teacher.” Nico hopes so. Learning how to do something has never stopped him. What usually stopped him was that he found it boring or pointless. Music, though, was different. It was like a poem or a story or a soul. Nico liked that. He liked how continuous it was, how just a few notes could make someone feel something. Music, to him at least, felt almost living.

Nico hears the front door open. He frowns. Mama shouldn’t be home until later. She’d left a note saying she was going to the grocery store after work, to expect a later dinner.

“I’ve found someone!” Jason calls. Nico rolls his eyes. Jason never knocked, and Nico had a sneaking suspicion that Mama had given Jason the extra house key.

“For what? A girlfriend?” Nico asks. “You’ve already got one of those.”

Jason laughs. “No, a piano teacher.”

“Really?” Nico asks.

“Well, kind of.” Nico raises his eyebrows. He has to double-check that he’s not wearing his glasses to make sure Jason can see them. “I haven’t exactly asked him yet. But I know he plays piano, and I’ve heard he’s really good.”

“Who?” Bianca asks.

“Will Solace.”

There’s a bit of silence where Nico’s chewing on a grape, and Jason’s probably waiting for someone to respond to him.

“Is he that blond kid? The one that’s always tapping on things?” Bianca asks.

“Yeah. And he dropped his sheet music all over the hall yesterday. Pretty complicated stuff. So I’m sure he could teach Nico here to play something.”

Nico can feel their eyes turning to him. “How do we ask him? I mean, I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“He sits behind you in science, I think,” Jason says. “He’s pretty quiet usually. Hangs out alone. I don’t know much about him. Except that he plays the piano.”

Nico keeps asking questions, but all he gets is that he’s going to have to ask Will Solace if no one responds to the ad by Friday. He’s half hoping that someone will, but he’s also intrigued now. He keeps his ears open for the name, but no one ever says it. He tries to tune into the tapping, but he isn’t sure if it’s Will or some anxious/bored student. Jason’s no help either.

Which is how he finds himself outside of Will’s locker on Friday. Nico shifts his weight. He feels kind of awkward standing here. He’s sure people are glancing at him as they shuffle towards their cars or the bus. He wishes he’d had something he could fiddle with while he waited. He wasn’t actually sure of Will’s schedule, so he was taking a chance that Will even stopped by his locker.

“Um, hey,” comes a voice, and Nico’s sure he’s heard it before. “You may be lost. This is my locker. I think yours is down the other hall.”

“Are you Will Solace?” Nico asks. He can hear Mrs. O’Leary sniffing at Will’s shoes.

“What’s it to you?” There’s a roughness that Nico can only define as defensiveness.

“I heard you could play piano,” Nico says. “And I was wondering if you’d be willing to teach me. I can pay.” That was the good thing about coming from a well to do family. Money wasn’t really much of a limit to him.

“Get lost.” Nico hears a locker opening near him, and he steps back to give Will some room. He’s sure he’s heard this voice before. Both in class and somewhere else. He can’t quite place it yet.

“Twenty per lesson,” Nico offers. He isn’t sure why he’s so desperate for Will to teach him all of a sudden. He’s sure his mama can find someone to teach him, someone way more qualified. But maybe it’s because Nico hardly knows anyone who goes to this school. He knows Jason (and Jason’s girlfriend, Piper) and Bianca. He knows a few other people, people he’s worked with on projects or forced to work with in gym or as his blind buddy (someone to help him get around - before he got Mrs. O’Leary). But he’d never had a real friend.

He waits for an answer, but he realizes that Will’s walked away.  
-  
Will throws his stuff onto his floor before moving to pick it up again. He hates a messy room, a messy life. But that’s what he’s got. What with his dad raiding his room every now and then for money or alcohol or secrets. He isn’t sure which one his dad would be more happy to find.

He peels off his uniform, carefully folding it. He’d just gotten his third paycheck, and it still surprised him how far away from getting out of here he was. With college application expenses and buying food, he’d hardly saved anything worth leaving with.

He turns to his box of sheet music. He’d tried taping up the pieces as best he could, but when he’d played it, it didn’t sound right. He’d eventually given up for the day, moving on to his homework.

His arms feel weak from stocking at work, and he’s having trouble focusing. Nothing seems appealing at the moment. Not homework, not sleeping, not even piano. He hates that his father has poisoned even that for him. He rests his head against his drawers, trying to motivate himself to get up and do something. But his mind keeps telling him to just lay down, close his eyes, dream himself away. Except, he can’t sleep.

Will’s mind seems to be running at one hundred miles per hour, skipping from one thought to the next. One moment he’s thinking about the time he tried out for soccer in middle school, then his sixth birthday party, his fourth-grade class play, the day his dad bought him a tie, the day his mama died. And then it stops, pauses, freezes.

And Will’s trapped in the hospital, not able to walk away or even move to hold his mama’s hand. He’s frozen in his chair, watching the monitor. There is a flurry of doctors, his dad’s rough hands, salt. He honestly doesn’t remember too much from that day. It’s all a blur, one terrible nightmare.

He’s crying he realizes. Big, fat tears are trailing around his nose, down his jawline. His nose is running, and he can’t stop his mind from replaying his dad’s yelling, his mama’s eyes closing. He wants to throw something, break something, just lie down and never get up. He wants to disappear, leave, not exist.

Will’s looking around his room for something when he hears his dad’s footsteps. He freezes, his mind going completely blank. He hears the fridge open, hears the footsteps move down the hall. Then a door slams, the signal of a bad day. Will’s never been so relieved to not see his dad. And he should be overwhelmed with guilt and disappointment, but he’s not.  
-  
Nico’s surprised when he hears Will’s voice. It’s after school, when he’s on his way to meet up with Bianca. Will’s voice sounds slightly different than it did last time he’s heard it, but Nico’s learned that emotions can change a person’s tone.

“Did you still want those piano lessons?” Will asks. Nico has to nudge Mrs. O’Leary to make her stop sniffing at Will’s shoes.  
“Um, yeah. Are you offering?” Nico’s not sure that this isn’t a joke.

“Yeah. Twenty dollars a lesson. However often you want starting at once a week.” Nico smiles.

“Okay. Deal.” He pauses. “I don’t have a piano. Is that okay?”

There’s a bit of silence, maybe where Will’s thinking or has forgotten that Nico’s blind.

“Yeah. As long as you can do lessons right after school or something. I have a piano.”

Nico can’t believe this is happening. He’s going to learn piano. (And he might even make a friend.) “You do know I’m blind, right?” Nico asks.

“Yeah, but if you want to learn, I can work with that.” Nico smiles. He holds out his hand, and he feels a warm, slightly calloused hand slip into his. They shake. “I can do Thursdays right after school. I don’t drive, though, so I don’t know how to get you to my house.”

Nico shrugs. “My sister can drive me.” He’s sure Bianca will be okay with that. She’ll be so excited that Nico had found a teacher. He feels a slip of paper being pushed into his hand, and he’s sure it’s Will’s address. “Thanks, Will.”

“Sure.” Nico can’t wait.

Thursday doesn’t come soon enough. It turned out that Will had given Nico his address and number, so Nico had made sure to confirm that the piano lessons were still happening. He didn’t know what he’d do if they were just a joke.

Bianca doesn’t say much as she drives Nico to Will’s house. She just wishes him luck, walks him to the front door, and leaves once Will shows up.

“I tried to clean up a little,” Will says. “I’m sorry if you trip on anything.” Nico manages okay, only stubbing his toe twice. Will explains where they’re going, making sure to orient Nico. Nico wonders if Will had been reading up on what to do with a blind person.

“I don’t have any experience at all,” Nico says once they’re in Will’s room.

“Okay, here.” He takes Nico’s free hand, setting it on something cool and smooth. “This is the top of the piano. Just, um, get a feel for it.” Will leads Nico around the piano slowly, talking him through what he’s touching. Then Nico makes it to the keys. Will situates him on the bench, letting him find the pedals, letting him press the keys. Nico smiles when he hears the clear notes.

“Is this right?” Nico asks. He has no idea how he looks. He lets Will adjust his fingers, curving them as he’s told. Will’s hands are positioned over his. Will taps Nico’s thumb, letting a note ring out.

“Middle C,” Will says. Nico plays it a few more times, trying to get the note in his head. “I could probably find some stickers or something for you to use. To be able to orient yourself without my help.” Nico smiles. Will was a good teacher so far.

Will goes through the rest of the notes, letting Nico hear each of them. He explains the octaves, plays a few things for him. He lets Nico test out his skills, though Nico’s sure Will covered his ears during that part of the lesson.

“I think that’s a good lesson for today,” Will says after a moment of silence. Nico’s fingers are still resting over the keys. He’s trying to make sure his fingers are curved, his back straight. Just because he can’t see his posture doesn’t mean that it isn’t important. “You’re a quick learner. You’ve got a good ear.”

“Thanks.” Nico’s not sure what else to say. Should he get up?

“I think this will work,” Will says. “That was kind of fun.”

Nico shrugs. He’d found it more than fun. He loved the sound of the piano, of the chords, of Will’s playing. Will’s music, whatever it was, was so fluent and expressive. Nico wonders if he should tell Will his whole reason for wanting to play the piano. He decides he’ll do it later, after he’s learned a scale and can find middle C. Small steps.

Will walks him out, says that he’ll see Nico tomorrow. Nico hopes that Will is smiling. He’s only hung out with Will for an hour, but he thinks Will would be a good friend. Even if he does seem kind of grumpy sometimes.  
-  
Will’s visiting his mama this morning. He’s packed himself a lunch and his homework. His dad is passed out on the couch as usual. Will’s not even sure when he got home last night. It’s almost a spring day, the sky clear and a little chill hanging in the air. Will wraps his jacket around himself, lugging his backpack up the hill.

HIs mama was buried between a magnolia tree and another gravestone. Will didn’t know his mama’s neighbor, but he hoped they were nice company. He props himself up against the tree, placing his flowers by the grave. Coming here, even seven years later, felt weird. It felt strange to him to hang out with a stone slab bearing his mama’s name, but that was all he had of her.

After her passing, his dad, in a drunken rage of grief, had gotten rid of most of her things. Only her piano, some other sheet music, and her wedding ring were still in the house. Will had also managed to save some of her pictures. But every other memory of her was gone, almost like she’d never existed. Even Will’s dad seemed to have forgotten her, except when he was insulting Will. He drunk himself silly every night only to hook up with someone and stumble into the house at odd hours.

Will tries to clear the bad thoughts away, wanting to focus on the more positive memories. He’d brought his mama’s favorite sandwich, even though he didn’t really care for deli ham too much. He’d also brought her favorite flowers: Carnations. He wishes he could have played her something, but it wasn’t reasonable to drag a piano out to a graveyard. And he still didn’t have Moonlight Sonata learned.

“Hey, Mama,” he whispers. He isn’t sure how to continue. It’d been a while since he’d visited. He’d gotten busy, though that was just an excuse. Honestly, he just wasn’t sure if she’d want to see him. Not with how he kept messing up lately.

His dad had found out about his job, cashing most of the money under his own name. And while it was a really stupid thing to do, Will had quit. He didn’t want his dad raiding his room for his paychecks, demanding money he knew Will had. And Will still had yet to replace the sheet music that had been destroyed.

Will tugs on his sleeves, trying to hide his biggest mistake. He hadn’t meant to (well, he kind of had), and he wasn’t quite sure he regretted it. Except, it felt shameful. It felt so shameful to hate yourself that much that you didn’t even want to exist anymore.

Will feels like his mama already knows, but he wishes she didn’t. If she were here, this wouldn’t have even happened. His dad would still be Dad, and Mama would be there to make them both smile. Will didn’t blame his dad for drinking or forgetting him. He understood that his dad was coping, was trying to make sense of what had happened. But Will needed a father. He needed someone to love him and to let him know that things were going to be okay. Because he didn’t think they were going to be.

He tugs at his sleeves again before taking a bite of his sandwich. His mama didn’t want to attend a pity party, especially not one for him. She never let him dwell in pity, always trying to make him smile or letting him cry. But she didn’t do pity.

“I’m teaching this kid at school how to play piano,” Will says. He’d been doing lessons for three weeks now. Nico was a fast learner, partly because of his ability to hear the notes so well. Just this past week, Nico had played the C major scale perfectly, his nimble fingers moving along the keys. Will wondered if it was easier to play when you don’t have to rely on sight. He wasn’t sure.

Nico had seemed so proud of himself, smiling so big. His dog had jumped up into his lap, licking his face. Will had smiled, too. He wondered if the warm, kind of fuzzy feeling in his chest was what his mama felt every time he did something amazing. He hoped so.

“His name is Nico. I think you would have liked him.” Mama would have spoiled Nico, making sure he knew where everything was, that he was allowed to come over at any time, that he could stay for dinner whenever he wanted. She would probably have also gotten a set of dog bowls just in case he ended up becoming good friends with Will.

Will sighs. It’d been a while since he’d been close to anyone. After his mama died, he’d transferred schools. And then he’d closed himself off, appearing rough so that no one would mess with him. He was already reprimanded for being a disappointment at home. He didn’t need it at school. So he played the part of the straight-A student who didn’t care. Though he wasn’t sure if it was so much an act anymore.

“Should I go to college, Mama? Dad says it’s a waste.” Will understands that their finances are kind of falling through. Part of that is because no one taught Will how to make a good budget. The other part is that at least a third of what his dad makes goes to his addiction.

“I mean, I don’t even know what I’d study.” At this point, he always imagines his mama coming up with things that he could study. Things like music or teaching or being a doctor. He loves music because he loves his mama. It’s just a part of life. But he doubts he’d be able to make money doing it. He’s not that good.

And then Will also feels kind of guilty for leaving his dad. Isn’t he supposed to love his dad? Want to take care of him in his old age? Want to take care of him even if he hits Will, rips up his music, criticizes him for caring? Will believes in the Golden Rule, but his dad is too far gone to even consider it. Should Will care? Is it even his fault? Will wishes the first answer that came to his mind wasn’t yes.

Will stays with his mama for the better part of the afternoon. He does his homework, gets caught up on everything he’d procrastinated on. He feels better this morning, well-rested and more clear-minded. He wonders if it’s because he’s finally talking to his mama again. Or if this is just the top of the rollercoaster and he’s about to plummet downwards.  
-  
“You should invite him over for dinner,” Bianca says. Nico shrugs. Will was his teacher. He hadn’t made too much progress on the whole friends front. While Will was friendlier at his house than at school, that didn’t mean that Will wanted to be his friend. He always made sure the lessons were an hour exactly, no more. He never touched Nico more than necessary, and he didn’t really laugh at Nico’s jokes (which Nico thought were funny).

“I guess.” He can feel Bianca glaring at him. “Fine. I’ll invite him over.”

“It’s the least you can do. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile so much in months.” Nico sticks out his tongue. He likes hanging out with Will, even if Will is quiet and kind of grumpy. Will treats him like a regular person, no different than he treats anyone else as far as Nico can tell.

Will greets him at the front door, walking him into the house. “We might have to have a shorter lesson today,” Will says. “My dad is supposed to be home earlier.” Nico nods. He isn’t sure what that has to do with it, but he understands he’s not supposed to ask.

They go through the scale, adding a second octave. Nico picks it up pretty quick. He’d been practicing learning the notes on a program his mama had found. It’d play a note, and then he had to guess what it was. He was right about 80% of the time. Some of the octaves were a bit tricky for him to hear.

“Maybe we can start a short song today,” Will says. “Any requests?” Nico shrugs. He isn’t sure what a short song would be. “How about Mary Had a Little Lamb?” Nico nods. Will waits while Nico positions his fingers. (Will had put a sticker on middle C to make it easier for him.)

Nico smiles when he feels Will’s fingers hover over his. Will hums the tune slowly as he presses Nico’s fingers down. He goes phrase by phrase, asking Nico to echo him as he goes. Nico feels proud of himself when they get the whole way through, Nico slowly playing one octave while Will follows in the octave above.

“I can probably record it for you, if you want. So you can listen to it. Though most versions are the same.” Nico shrugs. Will plays the song with the chords, and Nico smiles. He loves hearing Will play, even if it’s something as simple as a nursery rhyme. “We have time for one more song, if you want.”

Nico nods. He wishes he had a piano at home so he could practice. He’d practice every day if he could. Nico thinks Will is smiling as he positions his fingers again.

“This one is a little longer, but I think you’ll like it.” Will plays it first, and Nico smiles. The tune was kind of bouncy, but it seemed fun. “If I record it, I think you’ll have it in a few weeks.”

“What’s it called?”

“Heart and Soul,” Will says quietly. “When you learn this part, I can play the chords. It’s a duet.” It’s a little more tricky for Nico as he doesn’t say in C position the entire time. Instead, he has to feel the space between each note to figure out where to place his fingers next. He gets about half of the song before Will tells him it’s time to go.

“This has been really nice,” Nico says as Will walks him out. “I was wondering if you’d like to come for dinner sometime.” He can feel Will freeze once the question’s out.

“I really can’t,” Will says.

“Maybe lunch, then?” Nico asks. “It’s completely okay if you don’t want to. I just want some way of thanking you. Other than just paying you.”

He hears Will shift, like he’s uncomfortable or nervous. Nico doesn’t know Will good enough to know which yet. “Maybe lunch,” Will says. “Maybe Saturday? I’ll have to check for sure.”

Nico nods, smiling. “You can text me, okay?” He thinks Will nods, and then Mrs. O’Leary leads him to Bianca’s car. As they drive away, Nico hears a car zoom past them.

“Are you alone with Will when you guys do your lessons?” Bianca asks. Nico nods. “I think his dad just got home.” Nico wonders if Will just doesn’t want his family to meet his friends or maybe his family doesn’t like the repetition of a beginner on piano. He understands. But he also feels like Will is holding in some big secret that he’s not allowed in on yet.

“He agreed to lunch or something. Said he couldn’t do dinner.”

“Hmm. Maybe his family is kind of weird.” Nico turns to face Bianca. “I just mean that he seems super nice but also sad. And he’s also super smart, but I don’t think he’s looking at any colleges or anything. That’s just kind of weird to me.”

Bianca had started the college search ages ago, and now she was trying her best to decide which school she wanted to go to. She’d gotten acceptances into her top three choices, but she was having a hard time deciding which she liked best.

“Not everyone has to go to college, Bi.” Bianca sighs. “I mean, there are other things to do.”

“Not much in this town.” Nico shrugs. He liked this town. Part of that was because he hardly knew much about other places. His family didn’t travel, and he couldn’t look up vacation sites and see which were the prettiest. He could only imagine, really. So he was content with what he had. The people were nice, and there were things to do on weekends. So he didn’t have too much to complain about.

“Well, hopefully, he’ll come to lunch or something,” Bianca says. Nico nods. The more time he spends with Will, the more he wants to know about Will. He finds himself smiling at the thought. Which is kind of weird. He is not getting a crush on Will Solace. He’s just looking for a friend and some piano lessons. Nothing more.  
-  
Will wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to go to Nico’s for lunch. He wanted actual friends, actual hobbies. He wanted to be able to have dinner at a friend’s house without having to worry if his dad would throw a fit because someone wasn’t there to make dinner for him.

He groans, pushing his homework away. Glancing at the clock, he figures he’s got an hour before his dad gets home. He slips on his shoes, deciding to go for a walk. When he was little, his mama and he used to go for walks whenever she was upset with his father or whenever Will got restless. It was a way to release stress and energy and a way for them to talk.

They had their own route that they’d take each time. It was about a mile or so round trip, and Will always loved those walks. Sometimes if they couldn’t find anything to talk about, they’d race each other from stop sign to stop sign, trying to see who was the fastest.

His mama usually won until she didn’t. When it became harder for her to breathe, and she had to stop more often on their walks, Will would ask if they needed to turn around. When she’d shake her head, he held her hand, making sure to go slow enough that she wouldn’t have to catch her breath too often.

This is the first time he’s taken this route by himself. He finds his feet steering him along without any prompting, his eyes taking in the familiar sites. It’d been so long, but he can still imagine the feeling of his mama’s hand in his. He can still hear her breathing, quiet so that she wouldn’t worry her.

He passes the house with the yellow door, the one with the million bird baths in the front lawn, the one that looks like it’s been abandoned ages ago. He smiles a little, feeling a little better than when he’d started. HIs mama may not be here anymore, but this walk still seemed to have its magic.

He passes a family having an early dinner, smiles on all of their faces. It looks like something out of a movie, with everyone laughing and passing food around. Dinners at the Solace house used to be like that. Will misses that so much. He used to think his life was a movie because it’d seemed so perfect, even with the occasional yelling and bad grade. But that was okay in movies. Usually.

He finds himself talking his phone out, opening the message box to type in Nico’s name. They hadn’t texted much, mostly just Nico confirming his lessons. Will types out his message, hitting send before he can change his mind. He continues on his walk as he waits for Nico to respond. He’s almost to his house when he feels the familiar buzz in his pocket. He smiles.  
-  
Meals on the weekends were always hit or miss in the di Angelo household. Sometimes people were around to share it with, sometimes there were not. This time, however, everyone was gathered in the kitchen. Nico was filling water glasses, his mama was cooking. Bianca was setting the table.

Nico answers the doorbell, surprised when he feels something touch his hand. He wraps his fingers around it, not quite sure what it is.

“It’s chocolate. I wasn’t sure what I should bring,” Will says.

Nico smiles. “This family loves chocolate.” He leads Will into the kitchen. He can hear his family immediately surround Will, welcoming him. Then they’re all seated around the table.

“Will, we just wanted to thank you for helping Nico learn piano. He’s been so excited. I can’t wait to hear him play.” Nico hadn’t thought about that. Each week, he’d tell his mama and Bianca everything he’d learned, but he’d never played anything for them. He wonders if Will would let them come in for a few minutes to listen to him.

“He’s doing really well,” Will says. Nico makes sure to focus on eating so he doesn’t make a fool of himself. Usually, he was good, but sometimes he missed his mouth when he got distracted. He listens to the conversation, to Mama and Bianca asking Will questions. He pays attention to the answers, wanting to make sure he doesn’t miss something.

“Thinking of college?” Maria asks.

“I’m not sure,” Will says. “I’ve been looking into some, but I haven’t decided yet.” There’s a pause like maybe Will was going to say more, but he doesn’t.

“Well, there’s still some time to decide. You don’t have to apply until the fall.” Will probably nods. “So, how’d you get into music?”

“My mama,” Will says softly. Nico can hear the fondness in his voice. “She taught me to play when I was young. And I’ve just kept at it, I guess.” Nico imagines Will shrugging here. “It helps me clear my mind,” Will says quietly. Nico thinks he hears something in that, like a confession or a cry for help. He can’t quite place his finger on it.

“We’d love to meet your family sometime,” Maria says. “Meet the people of such a nice young man. “ Nico can feel the tension rise.

“My mama’s dead now,” Will says. “And my dad isn’t much of a people person.” Nico can hear the clattering of some plates, and then Maria is announcing dessert.

The questions become less personal, more about favorite foods and colors. Nico can tell his mama is embarrassed about asking about Will’s family, but it wasn’t like any of them knew. Nico smiles when he hears Will compliment his mama on her cooking. He knows she takes pride in being able to cook good food. Bianca says she always blushes when she gets compliments.

“We’d love to have you again sometime,” Maria says. She’s clearing the plates, shooing Nico and Will towards the living room.

“You don’t have to leave just yet,” Nico says. It’s quiet for a moment, and then Will says, “Okay.” There’s more silence as Nico tries to think of something that would interest Will also. He doubts Will wants to listen to audio books or listen to music.

“Want to go for a walk?” Nico asks. He leads Will outside, moving so that Mrs. O’Leary is on his left, Will on his right. At first, it’s a little awkward. Nico isn’t sure how to start the conversation, and he can tell Will’s kind of nervous.

“We could play twenty questions or something,” Nico says. When Will agrees, he asks, “If you could have any superpower, what would you want?”

Will thinks for a minute. “Invisibility, I think. Or time travel. One of those.” There’s a pause. They cross a street. Nico isn’t sure if Mrs. O’Leary is leading or Will. “If you could be any animal, what would you be?”

“Dog,” Nico says. He doesn’t have to think about it. He loves dogs. He’d love to be a dog with soft fur and a big, wet nose and floppy ears. “They’re so cute and amazing.” Mrs. O’Leary nudges him like she knows he’s talking about her. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

“Asking hard questions, Nico,” Will says. He gives a small laugh. “I don’t know. I’ve never really imagined life outside of this town, I guess. Which is kind of sad. I’d love to be anywhere but here.” There’s a pause that Nico’s not really quite sure what to do with. “If you could have your sight, what would be the first thing you’d want to see?”

Nico huffs. There were so many things he wanted to see. “Mama and Bianca,” he says. “And then colors. Because everyone says they’re so pretty.” He pauses. “And you. Because it seems like you talk less with words and more physically. And so I miss out on a lot.”

“Do you want to see me?” Will asks. Nico nods. He’d just said that, right? Then Nico feels his free hand being lifted. He touches warm skin. “If you move forward just a bit, you’ll touch my face.” Nico can feel Will’s breath on his hand. He remembers doing this when he was younger with Bianca and his mama.

He moves, his hand coming into contact with warm skin. It’s slightly greasy, like his, but the nose is more pointed. The lips are a little dry. He can feel when Will smiles, and he likes that. He runs his fingers along Will’s eyebrows, the curve of his nose, tracing his jawline. Then he moves back up, trying to memorize Will’s face. It all feels so intimate and personal, like he’s seeing Will for the first time. He thinks they must look weird, two boys standing in the middle of a sidewalk, one touching the other’s face.

“How do I look?” Will asks quietly.

Nico laughs. “You look handsome.” Nico hasn’t touched many people’s faces, but from descriptions he’s read in books, he can tell Will must be gorgeous. He hears Will laugh, a sound caught between amusement and bitterness.

“I’m really not. But thank you.”

“You’re more than looks,” Nico says. “That’s what makes you handsome.” Nico thinks he’s blushing. He’s never really tried his hand at flirting before. He’s always been too awkward, too shy.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one to think that,” Will says. Mrs. O’Leary nudges Nico to tell him to start moving again. Nico hadn’t heard Will start walking. “But thanks. I don’t know if you care or not, but you’re pretty handsome yourself.”

Nico’s definitely blushing.  
-  
It takes a few more weeks before they hang out again outside of piano lessons. Will’s still busy with avoiding trouble with his dad, and Nico’s busy doing whatever he does. Will heard that Nico’s family had gifted him a keyboard for his birthday. Will was still trying to figure out what to get him. He felt that since they were friends (they were friends, right?), he should get Nico something. But he wasn’t sure what.

He eventually decides on a blanket. It was soft and warm, and it was Nico’s favorite color (blue, the color of water). He wrapped it carefully, stepping quietly out of the house. He rides his bike over to Nico’s house, not giving himself time to overthink anything. Nico would like his gift, and even if he didn’t, he would pretend to like it for Will’s sake.

“Will?” Nico asks when Will greets him. “Come in.”

Once they’re in the living room, Will hands Nico his gift. Nico looks surprised, then happy, as he tears into the gift.

“I hope it’s not breakable,” he says, laughing. Will laughs. Things were better with Nico, Will thought. “Oh my gosh! It’s so soft!” Nico immediately wraps himself in the blanket, burying his face in it. “I love it so much!”

Will thinks he might combust with happiness. Then Nico is hugging Will, the blanket still wrapped around him. “You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did,” Nico says. “You’re a good friend, Will.”

Then Nico’s stepping back just slightly. He’s still grinning, his eyes closed as he smiles at Will. Mrs. O’Leary is sitting on the couch.

“I have a present for you,” Nico says softly. “If you want it.”

Will’s confused. “Any present from you, I’ll take,” Will says.

Nico blushes. His hands rise to Will’s shoulders, and then he’s standing on his toes to kiss Will. Will kisses him back, moving his hands to guide Nico’s mouth to his. Nico giggles, pulling back. “Did you like it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Will breathes. “That was nice.”

Nico rolls his eyes. “Come on. I want to play something for Mama and Bianca. Help me?” Will knows Nico doesn’t need help, but he follows along anyways. Nico sits down in a chair in front of his keyboard, taking great care to make sure his fingers are in the right place. Will smiles at him, wondering if Nico can tell Will’s smiling. He wonders if Nico knew how happy he makes Will, even on the bad days.

Nico starts playing, and Bianca and Maria are smiling. Nico smiles as he plays, turning to try and find Will behind him. Nico, Will thinks, was worth staying in town until graduation. He was Will’s friend, and maybe as they got to know each other better, Will could start to trust Nico more, open up more for him. But that was later. Right now, he could just enjoy the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated :)
> 
> I accept prompts (over at 'more solangelo')


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